#rivervale_lodge

He looks as though he would rather be taking to his hooves, but he holds his stance a moment longer. "Though I hate to intrude upon your hospitality, Fair- " He stops, cuts the flattery, and continues. "Baroness, if I may beg of you 3 days of hospitality - or less, as needed! ...that I may take the return message back. I would fain not return without it."

Arms the size of tree trunks fold across the broad, craggy chest of the Mountain.

A deep, slow inhale...exhale. And a nod. "You have that right. Please...wait here a minute." And she does actually close the door in his face, though not harshly.

She looks to Frank. "He has the right." Then to Sparrow, "Lady, I do not know if you wish your presence here to be known by any from House Ailil?"

A grunt, acknowledging.

"That... well, we should make it clear I am here to visit Frank, if it cannot be avoided, else..."

Sir Carowyn says "A liam gather to discuss the new Banner House's success?"

She laughs. "Or that!"

"You could slip away, now, to your room and return in a few minutes." Frank points out quietly.

"Good plan. Upstairs I go!"

Brekke nods and watches this. "Frank, I leave the Liam explanation to you." Then she opens the door again. "Enter," she says to the messenger.

It's not the warmest of welcomes.

Frank stares at the satyr with dead eyes.

He steps within, and flickers his gaze around. Admiration at the layout and the carvings, and ... oh, yes, it is much better to admire that woodwork than to meet the giant scary man's eyes. "Baroness, if it suits you better, I may take my leave to a hotel. And count it not against thy hospitality!" He quickly adds, lest she think he means to do so. "Perhaps I am more comfortable there - and return in the morning. Truly, I wish only to return with the missive response as ordered."

Carowyn smiles at the guest.. seeming to radiate Liam.. ickiness

For his part, Julius notes the sidhe, and bows to him with appropriate courtesy. "My lord."

A brow. "If that would make you more comfortable. There are certainly hotels in the area. It can be arranged."

Oblivious to the tension, Dagmar tromps in smelling of hay.

"Baroness, I seem to have caused you some offense. Or intruded at an inoportune time. I would not turn down you hospitality if offered, but were it not for my own duty - to be honest, it feels... rahter icky to demand it." He finally says plainly. And steps to one side to allow the new lady entry. "Miss."

"Uh, hey there." Nod. She heads for the kitchen. "Anybody want a drink while I'm in here?"

"The hospitality you have requested is yours by right. The option of a hotel is yours, as you have suggested it. If you do me offense...you will know." She continues to look down at him.

Then Dagmar comes in and she tenses.

"Wait..." to Dagmar. A moment of indecision.

"Yeah?"

Then a sigh. "This courier is from Baron Aiden ap Ailil. He brings a message. For you." She sounds grim.

An eyebrow.

"Why would an Ailil be sending me a message?"

Brekke looks like she might have suspicions, but she merely redirects that question to the satyr with a look.

"I wouldn't mind a glass of water." He admits. "It is a long trek from Carthage." And then he raises a brow at the admission. "Dame Dagmar Hammerstrike, may I presume?" Bowing now to the knight, even the dusty knight with hay in her hair.

"I'm Dagmar, yes..." Wary.

"I came bearing a missive for you, from my lord Baron Aidenn Lowell ap Ailil." And he rests a hand on his bosom, between the crests of both Ailil and Silverwolf. Brekke still holds the scroll...

"...with the horses."

Frank grunts and goes into the kitchen.

Brekke looks down at her hand where, almost forgotten, the scroll still rests. A sigh...and she passes it to Dagmar.

A frown, and she takes the scroll.

The scroll is fine parchment tinted silver, and tied with a black silk ribbon.

A wax seal, even, Fancy.

She scowls at it, and breaks it open to read.

Blink.

She reads it again.

Frank returns with a glass of water, and it's not even a troll-glass; the satyr won't drown in it.

"Can you share it, Dame?"

He accepts this gratefully, taking a long sip. And offers, "If my lady has any questions, I am glad to assist however I may."

"I will need to ask Connor."

Dagmar offers the scroll to the baroness.

It reads:

Dame Dagmar Hammerstrike ap Gwydion, Crash of the Storm of Rivervale, daughter of Skald Tove King and Jaymes King the Ironhawk, is hereby cordially invited to attend the Midsummer Fete of the Barony of Silverwolf, and be welcome upon our festival grounds.  We understand you have an interest in the husbandry of hound, steed and hawk, both fae and mortal in nature, and would welcome you to tour stables, kennels and mews.  We also ask that you may serve as escort for one Connor Lowell, should he choose to accompany you.

Cordially, from the desk of Baron Aidenn Lowell ap Ailil
(and a smaller scribbled inscription showing that it was dictated and written by another's hand)

(Pause)